


spring snow

by yongz



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kim Minseok | Xiumin-centric, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Mafia EXO, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Alternating, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Zhang Yi Xing | Lay-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yongz/pseuds/yongz
Summary: i.Minseok is twelve and it's a winter's day, but the air doesn't sting his nose like all the other boys. His cheeks do not flush red like the other boys. Minseok is twelve, and his hair is white.a.Yixing is ten when he breaks his leg. His mother wails and runs to get help, but it doesn't hurt like everyone says it would. Yixing tries to call her back. He screams and screams her name, but she must've mistaken it for pain. By the time she came back with a nurse, his leg was fine.Or; the mafia + mama powers au nobody asked for but i wrote anyways





	spring snow

**Author's Note:**

> hoooo boy. i've been working on this a long time, so i hope it came out as good as i tried to make it
> 
> also, the prompt was originally just the summary + dream like prose, and somehow my twisted mind came up with this wild mess
> 
> so. buckle yourselves in and enjoy
> 
> (bonus points if u listen to chen's april and a flower while reading)

i.

Minseok is twelve and it's a winter's day, but the air doesn't sting his nose like all the other boys. His cheeks do not flush red like the other boys. Minseok is twelve, and his hair is white.

a.

Yixing is ten when he breaks his leg. His mother wails and runs to get help, but it doesn't hurt like everyone says it would. Yixing tries to call her back. He screams and screams her name, but she must've mistaken it for pain. By the time she came back with a nurse, his leg was fine.

ii.

Minseok is fifteen and the world is his oyster. His friends call him Jack Frost, and he laughs and pricks their cheeks with ice. They go skating on the lake. Minseok makes sure it's frozen hard enough not to break underneath them. He can see his reflection in the ice. The ice, snow, and cold surround them.

b.

Yixing is thirteen and he's afraid to touch people. The other day he put his hand on a boy in his class, intending to help with the cut on his leg when red blossomed over his chest. The boy screamed. Yixing could only watch, horrified.

iii.

Jaeho slipped. His head painted the lake red. The other kids point fingers at Minseok. Call him a curse. He is fifteen and his name is Xiumin.

c.

He remembers. The past day. He helped someone from a car accident. The boy's injuries looked so _so_ very similar.

iv.

Minseok is seventeen and spring never comes for him. He is trapped in a relentless storm. He has turned from porcelain to silver, to ice.

d.

Yixing is more careful after that. He trains and hones his focus. He cannot afford to lose focus or be careless anymore. Yixing carries a pair of gloves with him when he goes out. Even though his mind is sharp and ready at any time, accidents befall even the best of us.

v.

"It's for the best," his mother says. She kisses his forehead and promises to write. Minseok nods through it all, face cold.

"I love you," he says. His mother smiles.

Minseok is twenty when he first steps foot in China.

e.

Yixing is eighteen when he first starts apprenticing at a clinic. It's no upscale hospital where he would earn six figures, and the pay is not enough to support him, but it's real.

vi.

Minseok misses Korea sometimes. He misses the food, the smell of his mother's cooking. He misses the winters, where the snow was so pure and white you could eat it off the ground. In Beijing, there is nothing but the grey haze and the neon lights of the buildings above. It is perpetually wet, and cold.

f.

Yixing experiences joy when an emergency patient pulls through, and pain when the patient is lost. His hands are red, and he reminds himself that he could've always done more. There is always more he could've done, but his hands are stained red even through the blue gloves.

vii.

Minseok does not miss the stares of the people around him. Here, no one knows him. No one asks about why his hair is white, or why he doesn't wear a coat. No one cares.

g.

For a while, Yixing dates a nice girl named Zhenmei. She's an accountant. Sometimes she's quite serious, but she has a funny side to her that doesn't come out often. Yixing thinks that this might be what love feels like, as he lays on the couch by her side. He thinks that he could love her.

viii.

Minseok’s job pays him well, but it's dangerous. He spends most of his nights bandaging minor wounds on his legs or arms. The next day, he scouts out the nearest clinic.

h.

Yixing comes home one night and finds another man in his house. He ends the relationship swiftly. He should've known better. Zhenmei doesn't apologize, and takes her things with her as she closes the door.

x.

Minseok is twenty-two when he meets a man named Lay. He's a doctor at a hole in the wall clinic where they don't ask questions or names. He has a warm smile and treats Minseok’s broken arm quickly and silently. He doesn't ask for Minseok’s temperature, but his hand is warm against Minseok’s skin as he wraps his arm. The heat seeps into Minseok’s pores, chasing away some of the cold.

i.

The man that comes in has hair as pure as the snow in the countryside. His face is blank, and he barely twitches a smile when Yixing greets him. Nonetheless, Yixing treats him and eases some of his pain before he goes. The man's skin was cold to touch. Yixing shivers. It felt like touching ice, Yixing could feel his hand burning as he took the man's pain, but he held on until it was done.

xi.

After Minseok leaves, he can't help but feel a bit warm inside. His arm doesn't even hurt that much anymore.

j.

Yixing goes on a blind date. This time with a man named Yifan. He's nice, and he saves Yifan's number, but Yixing didn't feel anything for him. They agree to part as friends. The date was nice, but Yixing left the place feeling bitter.

xii.

It might seem useless to live in China without knowing much Chinese, but Minseok has never had occasion or reason to speak to anybody. His employer speaks Korean. He has no friends in China, and he doesn't intend to make friends.

k.

Yixing wonders if there's something better than this. The clinic leaves no place for romantic ideals. At first, Yixing loved it, he loved the grittiness and the unshakeable truth to the place. But now, it drains him. He's tired of seeing men, women, and children come in with stories. Stories of their pain that no one else would accept.

Yixing finishes up the current patient and declares him good to go. "Thanks," the man says. He hops off the table. His shirt rides up to expose silvery scar tissue contrasting against a dark tattoo in the shape of a spade.

xiii.

While out, he runs into two men named Luhan and Chen.

"Xiumin?" says Luhan. Minseok can tell he's Chinese from his accent, but his Korean is good. "My name is Luhan."

"And I’m Chen," says the man beside him. "We're going to be working with you from now on."

Minseok stares at them. "I can't work alone anymore?" he says.

Chen laughs. "No way, it's getting dangerous. Big things happening up top." Minseok failed to believe that the people "up top" really cared about _him_ that much, but he let it slide.

l.

Yixing longs for freedom. China feels oppressive to him. There is always the constant presence of people flush up against him, or the four walls of a dimly lit room. Even the air is heavy.

Yixing packs a few things and flies for Korea the next day.

xiv.

Luhan and Chen are nice, at first. They're unfailingly polite and don't mind Minseok’s silence. They take it upon themselves to hang out with him even when they're not working. Minseok wonders if they're his bodyguards.

The more time they spend with Minseok the more they seem to let their guard down. They become louder, and stop being so formal with Minseok. His apartment has somehow become a hub for them to spend time together and eat all his food.

"My name is Jongdae, actually," Chen says one day.

"Names are dangerous," Minseok says, "you shouldn't have told me that." Minseok can hear Luhan rolling his eyes behind them. Beside him, Jongdae simply laughs and leans against him. His body is warm, but Minseok can barely feel it through their clothes. He thinks of that doctor, Lay, and his touch. How it scalded him with his heat.

(How nice it felt to be warm again)

m.

Korea is lovely. Yixing spends some time in the far country away from the cities. It is winter. The snow is blindingly white, a perfect kind of pristine that only nature can achieve. Yixing scoops up a handful, feeling the way the crystals dissolve against his skin. Soon the snow in his hands is nothing more than a puddle of water. Yixing drops the water and presses his hands into the snow.

It burns.

xv.

Winter in China is nothing like winter in Korea. There is no snow here. Just tall grey buildings and clouds, always clouds, blocking out the sun. Sometimes it rains. When it does Minseok goes outside and holds out his hands to feel the water. The droplets run down his face, and maybe any passerby would think he was crying. The water soothes the storm inside him. The coolness of the water is not as cold as snow, but Minseok feels alive.

n.

Yixing meets a man named Jongin in Korea. Yixing’s Korean is shaky, but they are able to converse.

"Take me back to China with you," Jongin pleads. "I made a promise."

"To who?" Yixing asks.

Jongin hesitates. "My friend," he says at last, but Yixing knows. He sees the look in Jongin's eyes. Yixing may not know what love feels like, but he knows the look.

"Ok," he says. "I will take you."

They plan to leave within the week.

xvi.

Jongdae knocks on his door one day, drenched in blood and shaking.

"Xiumin," he says, tears falling from his eyes. Minseok ushers him inside. They sit on the couch as Jongdae's body is wracked by sobs. Minseok holds him and whispers the reassuring words that his mother used to tell him.

It's a great fault in Jongdae, Minseok thinks. He's too caring, too kind, for this job. Feelings like this, the _attachment_ he has to people will ruin him. Eventually, Jongdae calms down enough to tell him. "Luhan is dead," he says, his voice trembling. Minseok nods, taking it in. He knew that they were supposed to run a mission, a dangerous one. Minseok ended up not going but Jongdae and Luhan stayed assigned to it.

"The Black Aces?" Minseok asks. Jongdae nods, wiping the tears off his face.

It's just them now.

o.

When they arrive back in China, Yixing takes Jongin to the clinic. Only they arrive and the clinic is a smoking ruin. He pokes around and the landowner of the building says there was a fire one night. The whole building went up, and there was nothing he could do, he said. Yixing didn't trust him.

"Your friend," Yixing says to Jongin. "What's his name?" Jongin had told him some stories of the two of them, albeit leaving out details such as names and locations. Yixing could tell there was more going on than met the eye.

"His name is Kyungsoo," Jongin concedes. "He's, uh—"

"He's part of Exodus," Yixing says. It's not a question. He knows them. Exodus frequented the clinic. Most of the staff were quite good friends with many of the members. Yixing hopes they're all okay.

"Come, I know a friend who can help you."

xvii.

Jongdae starts coming over more frequently than before, which is saying something. Jongdae practically lives in Minseok’s apartment now. There was barely a time when Jongdae was not there. Maybe he was afraid of leaving. Maybe he was afraid that if he left Minseok for too long, he might disappear too. Minseok wonders, is it his own death he fears or Minseok’s? Minseok wants the answer, but instead, he just holds Jongdae as they watch some TV program that Jongdae recommended.

Neither of them speaks.

p.

Luckily Junmyeon had not changed his address from when Yixing was last in China.

"Suho," Yixing said, knocking. "It's me, Lay." Like Yixing and all the other staff, Junmyeon used a pen name at work. While Yixing did know Junmyeon’s real name, it was safer while Jongin was here to call him Suho. Even though Jongin was young and didn't look as if he had it in him to do anything, Yixing couldn't trust him. He couldn't afford to.

Junmyeon opened the door. "Lay," he said. "I thought you left."

"Not for good," Yixing admitted. "I can't stay away it seems." Junmyeon chuckled.

"Come in," he said.

xviii.

It's inevitable, the calling. There's always a new mission. A new fight, a new battle, somewhere, someplace.

"I don't want to go," Jongdae says. He bites his lip. "I’m scared, Xiumin. I don't want to do this anymore." Minseok can see how much Luhan’s death has worn at him. He looks tired. He's lost that happy aura he had about him when Luhan was still here. Minseok wonders if he feels cold like him.

"Come with me, Xiumin," Jongdae begs. "We could start a new life, somewhere else. Away from all this." There's a hint of something else there in Jongdae's eyes as he pleads. Minseok doesn't name it. No, he can't. Silently, Minseok wishes he could say yes.

"Come on the mission with me," he says instead. "Please." Minseok hesitates, before adding, "Then I’ll help you leave."

Jongdae looks at him. "Ok," he says softly.

q.

Junmyeon leads them into the living room where they sit on the couch. Jongin is uncomfortable, but makes an effort to not look as if he wanted to run.

Junmyeon smiles. "How have you been Lay?" He pours out a cup of tea for him.

"I didn't come here for chitchat," Yixing says. "What happened to the clinic?"

Junmyeon sighs. "The Black Aces are on the move. Something big is going down. I’m not—"

He's interrupted by someone walking into the room. "Junmyeon—" He stops as soon as he catches sight of the two of them. His eyes flick over Jongin, recognition clear in them. "You," he says.

Jongin stands up. "Kris," he says.

"Oh," breathes Yixing. It's Yifan.

xix.

It's raining. Everything goes to shit.

r.

"Do you know where Kyungsoo is?" Jongin asks, hope visible on his face.

Yifan shrugs. "He's a runner now," he says in place of an answer. "He runs with Sehun a lot."

Jongin exhales and runs a hand through his hair. "A runner. Wow. How is—"

"Luhan’s dead," Yifan spits. "Fucking Black Aces." Jongin is silent. Yixing used to think he was innocent, simply because he has this softness about him. Something that someone who has been in this world for too long doesn't. But now he sees that he was wrong. This is Jongin's world as much as it is Yixing’s or Yifan’s. Albeit he might not be the same as Yifan or whoever Kyungsoo is, Jongin has lived and breathed these events. The softness is still there, but it is edged with steel.

xx.

Runners die. That's a fact. They're expendable. They're the extras. The nobodies every big name has on a lineup.

s.

Yixing approaches Junmyeon while he's in the kitchen. Jongin and Yifan are still talking about Luhan, another runner. At some point, Jongin starts crying.

"How do you know Yifan?" Yixing asks. Junmyeon looks at him, colored with surprise.

"How do _you_ know Yifan?" He shoots back. "We're dating."

Yixing laughs. "I went on a blind date with him a while back. Before I left China."

"Oh?" Junmyeon’s lips curl. "How was it?"

"Awful," Yixing says truthfully. "Still have his number though. We decided we were better friends."

Junmyeon chuckles. "Small world."

xxi.

"I love you," Jongdae says, his lips wet with blood.

Minseok watches him choke on the words, desperation in his eyes. "I’m sorry," Minseok says. Jongdae is dying, but Minseok was never a liar.

Jongdae smiles, despite the pain he must be in. "It's okay," he says. He coughs, more blood bubbles up, spilling over his lips, staining them red and falling down the side of his cheek. Streaks of red mar his face. It’s an ugly, sight; death. "It's okay," Jongdae says again, this time softer, and Minseok doesn't know if he's saying it to himself or to Minseok.

t.

Yixing and Jongin set out from Junmyeon’s apartment to meet with Sehun. Yifan refused to give them his address and instead said that he'd contact Sehun to have him meet them at a park.

"Your promise," Yixing says. "What was it?"

"I promised I’d leave with him."

Yixing looks at Jongin. His face is serious. Maybe he's thinking back on the time he spent with this Kyungsoo. Maybe he's wishing he never returned to China. Yixing wonders if he was ever a runner. "How did you end up in Korea then?"

Jongin says nothing at first. "I made a mistake."

His eyes are hard.

xxii.

Minseok closes Jongdae's eyes. He hovers over his body, waiting to—to do what. To cry? To kiss his dead body? No. Minseok closes his eyes and reminds himself. Jongdae is dead. Minseok leaves his body on the ground and runs away, chased by the wail of sirens throughout the night.

u.

The park Yifan sent them to is quiet. Albeit, it is early in the morning, but even still you can usually see the few stragglers running to catch a morning bus or hurrying with cups of coffee off to their mundane office job.

There's a tall man by the benches Yifan told them to go to. "Sehun?" Yixing says.

"Kai?" Sehun says, ignoring Yixing. "What are you doing here?" He stands and flicks the cigarette to the ground. Yixing longs to pick it up, but refrains from moving.

"Sehun I—"

"You left," Sehun says, bitter. "You can't just come back and expect things to still be the same."

Jongin bites his lip. "I know," he says. "I—"

"Luhan’s _dead_, Kai," Sehun snorts. "Things are changing. Maybe the others don't want to admit it, but Exodus is falling. The big men are barely holding on."

"That's exactly why it's the perfect time to get out." Sehun raises an eyebrow. "Hear me out. Exodus is a sinking ship. Let's all get out. All of the runners. You said it yourself, the big men aren't holding on as well anymore. The Black Aces are taking over. None of it matters, Sehun."

"But you're not here for me," Sehun says. "You're here for D.O."

Jongin hesitates. "Yes, but you're my friend too, Sehun. Come with us," he pleads. "Just tell Kyungsoo that—"

"I don't know where he is though." Sehun shrugs. "Sorry."

"Does anyone?" Jongin asks.

Sehun thinks. "Chen might."

xxiii.

Jongdae doesn't have a funeral. Minseok doesn't know how he feels. In fact, he feels nothing. He's numb, and it's like nothing ever changed from the first months when he was in China. He's alone in his apartment, and he has no partners.

v.

Sehun points them in the direction of a man named Xiumin. Before Luhan died, he, Chen, and Xiumin used to run together. Unlike Yifan, Sehun had no qualms about giving them Xiumin’s address.

xxiv.

There's a knock on his door.

w.

Xiumin opens the door. Yixing has a faint memory of him, white hair and broken arm and skin cold. Cold as ice.

"Who are you?" Xiumin asks.

"My name is Jongin," Jongin says. "I used to be a part of Exodus." Xiumin’s gaze turns towards Yixing. Yixing searches his eyes for any sign of recognition, but there is nothing. His gaze is blank, like his face. He is unchanging even as he widens the door and allows them inside.

x.

"We're looking for Chen," Jongin explains.

"Chen is dead," Xiumin says, very matter of fact, as if it meant nothing to him. Yixing would've believed that had he not glimpsed the slightest flicker of his face. Despite his hard exterior, there was something inside.

y.

"We've met before, you know," Yixing says.

Xiumin stares at him. "Really?"

"The clinic." Yixing smiles, wan and tired. "We treated all kinds of people there," he says, in place of an explanation.

z.

"Why do you want Chen," Xiumin asks, blunt. Yixing watches him closely. There's something about the way he says Chen's name. As if it was foreign to him. Something that he had not said in a long time.

"Sehun thought he might've known where Kyungsoo is."

Xiumin shakes his head. "I don't know a Kyungsoo."

"Do you know him by D.O.?" Yixing tries.

"No," Xiumin says. "I don't know many people," he admits. "I usually run solo."

"Solo?" Jongin's eyes widen. "But how?"  
Xiumin looks at him as if he were a fly that he wished to swat. "I have my ways."

I.

Yixing and Jongin end up staying at Xiumin’s apartment. Jongin is frustrated, and Yixing, having sold his apartment when he left China, has no option but to ask if they could stay. Xiumin allows them, to Yixing’s surprise. He hesitates before agreeing, but he agrees nonetheless.

II.

"Your apartment is cold," Yixing notes.

Xiumin pauses. "I didn't notice," he says. "You can turn up the heat."

III.

"I’ll take the couch. you two can sleep in the bed," Xiumin says, rearranging the couch pillows.

"N-no, you're being so kind to allow us to stay here," Jongin says. "I’ll take the couch. You and Yixing can take the bed." Xiumin stares at Yixing. He doesn't betray any emotion, but Yixing can tell that he's less than thrilled by the idea of sharing a bed with someone who is essentially a total stranger.

"It's fine. Take the bed," Xiumin says.

"Please," Jongin says. "It's your house and your bed."

"Take the bed,” Xiumin repeats. His voice is flat, but Yixing can detect annoyance seeping through the cracks.

"Yixing can sleep on the couch with me," Jongin adds. Xiumin twitches.

IV.

Yixing and Xiumin end up on the bed. As Yixing prepares for bed, he can feel Xiumin’s gaze on him. Yixing wonders about him, his life, what happened to Chen, if they're ever going to find Kyungsoo. Xiumin is wordless as they climb into bed together.

"Goodnight," he says, turning off the lamp by the bed.

"Goodnight," Yixing echoes. In the dark, he lies awake, Xiumin by his side. He can feel his presence. The house is warmer now, but his skin is still cold to touch.

A.

Minseok remembers him. The doctor with the scalding skin. The heat that seemed so unbearable, that is lying right beside him in his own bed in his apartment. Lay, his name, is not his real name. This Minseok knows. He won't ask for it, he doesn't _want_ to hear it. Hearing it will only hurt him. It will thaw the wall he has barricaded himself in with.

V.

When Yixing wakes up, Xiumin is gone. He can hear the sizzling of a pan coming from outside the room. If Yixing strains, he can hear the low murmur of Jongin and Xiumin talking. The sun streaming in the window warms Yixing as he lays there. In Xiumin's bed. Maybe he should get up, as it's not his bed and it must be quite late in the morning. But not for now. Here, Yixing can lay with no worries of runners or Kyungsoos. Here, is out of time. It's oddly peaceful.

B.

Minseok has spent so much time in the cold, he's not sure what it feels like to be warm anymore. Lay probably knows, he thinks. Lay is warm. His skin bears the heat of what it feels like to know spring.

VI.

Breakfast is silent. Xiumin has made simple scrambled eggs with sausages. Jongin has already finished his plate by the time Yixing drags himself out of bed.

"Morning," Jongin says. Xiumin remains silent. Yixing nods at the two of them.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Xiumin says. He enters his bedroom and shuts the door softly. Yixing watches him go, words to tell him to stay on the tip of his tongue, but they do not spill over.

"What now?" Jongin says.

"Where do you think Kyungsoo would be?"

"Many things have changed since I left," Jongin says. "He won't go to the same places." Jongin's words are strong, but his tone is unconvincing. It sounds more like a half lie he has spent trying to convince himself that it is the truth.

"Are you sure?" Yixing asks. There, Yixing can see it. The cracking of the facade.

"No," Jongin admits. "There might be one place."

C.

Minseok leaves the two alone, which is not the most logical thing to do. There are a number of things they could do. They could rob his house. They could kill him. They could betray his location. But strangely, Minseok trusts them. Jongin is so young, and so pure looking. Yixing is evidently older, but there remains a softer edge around him that Minseok wishes he had. It reminds him of Jongdae, in a way.

Maybe Minseok is looking for connections that aren't there. Not that it matters, as they are leaving today. He will probably never see them again in his lifetime. Beijing is a big city, with many people. It is easy to get lost among the crowd.

VII.

"You're Jack Frost, aren't you?" Yixing says.

"It's been a long time since anyone called me that," Xiumin says. "How do you know?" Xiumin eyes him suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"No one," Yixing answers. "I spent some time in Korea. I heard tales of a man who had hair as white as the snow, and willed the icy landscape to his command, but I never dreamed I’d meet him."

"The tales are false," Xiumin says, his voice sharp. "I’m nothing special."

D.

The company was nice, but once they leave, it'll be back to normal. The always the way it's been. Him, alone.

VIII.

As they prepare to set off once more, Yixing can help but ask Xiumin about what he'll do next. Both his now former partners are dead. Exodus is all but dead in name. Nothing that lasts now will last for much longer. All that stands is going to fall.

Xiumin shrugs. "I'll run missions."

"Just like that?" Yixing asks. _Like nothing's happening? Like everything is normal?_

"Yes," Xiumin says. And then, as if he's reading his mind. "It's as if nothing's changed."

Yixing frowns. "What do you mean?"

Xiumin chuckles, a bitter sound, biting and cold like the sharp winter wind howling outside. "I worked alone before they came here. And now I'll work alone again."

_I don't believe you,_ Yixing thinks, but he says nothing. Soon enough, he'll leave this apartment and leave Xiumin and his frosty exterior and home behind.

E.

Minseok doesn't think about Jongdae or Luhan anymore. Time moves on. It is relentless, and doesn't stop for anybody. Not for Luhan, not for Jongdae, and not for Minseok. If Minseok thinks hard enough, it's as if it never happened, and it was just a bad dream. Memories, after all, fade after time.

IX.

Jongin leads Yixing to a secluded park in a part of the city that Yixing has never been.

"We used to come here to be alone," Jongin says. Yixing imagines there is more meaning to the place, but he doesn't press it. As they walk, Jongin asks, "Why are you still helping me?"

Yixing pauses. It's true. He could've left Jongin long after they arrived in China. He could've stayed with Suho and Yifan, and helped them start up a new clinic again. "I don't know," he says. It's the truth, even though it doesn't feel like it.

F.

Minseok was supposed to report back to the "big men" a couple days ago, but he didn't. He wonders if they think he's dead. If they even care. If they know. Maybe it would be better if he were dead to them.

Minseok picks up the phone, and dials PCY.

X.

The park is empty.

G.

"Hello?"

"Xiumin," Minseok says. "Chen is dead."

PCY doesn't respond at first. Then: "I'm sorry."

Him? Sorry? For what? Minseok was surprised he cared at all. "Why does it matter to you?" He says. "I'm still alive."

PCY on the other end sputters. "Right," he says. "I just—"  
"Do you have a mission for me," Minseok asks.

"Yes."

XI.

Jongin and Yixing are sitting on a pair of swings. They are old, and rusty, and the seats creak when the wind blows. Vines are growing up the poles that stake it to the ground. The park is empty, and they have nowhere to go.

"We used to sit here, you know." Jongin says, breaking the silence. "Kyungsoo and I. It was our little secret. My... teacher. Yifan. He didn't approve of relationships between trainees." Yixing looks at Jongin, surprised. This is the most Jongin's shared of his past.

"I can tell you've been wondering," Jongin says, smirking. Yixing flushes. "I was an apprentice. That's how I met Kyungsoo. And Sehun. But he graduated basically right as I joined."

"How did they recruit you?" Yixing asks.

"I was homeless," Jongin says, shrugging. "I had nothing. Didn't take much convincing." Jongin doesn't elaborate.

"You were going to graduate. And become a runner," Yixing realizes. "Is that why you left?"

Jongin sighs. "I was young. And I was scared." Jongin opens his mouth to continue, when he tenses. Yixing follows his line of sight to—

H.

Minseok almost laughs at the irony. He could've mentioned the pair to PCY, but he didn't for some reason. He wonders if he should track them back down, tell them what he knows now. He shrugs off the idea in the end. They don't matter anymore.

XII.

Jongin starts running. Yixing follows. He follows Jongin down alleys and side streets, until they dead end into a corridor. The man that Jongin was following sprints into a door on the side of the street. The door slams closed behind him. The sound resounds through the alleyway. Jongin moves to follow the man inside.

"Wait!" Yixing grabs Jongin's arm, pulling him back. Jongin jerks against his grip.

"He's a Black Ace," Jongin spits. Yixing wonders how he knows from so far. Is there a look to Black Aces? He wonders why Exodus and the Black Aces hate each other so much. If there was a start to the vitriolic war, or it just is and always has been.

"We need to get help," Yixing whispers. "We don't even know how many people are in there."

Jongin hesitates, but nods. "Alright."

I.

Minseok probably shouldn't go alone. PCY asked to assign a partner to him. Minseok asked him who was left to go with him. PCY didn't respond. Minseok knows, he is one of the last. He suspects many of the others runners either fled Exodus or have died by now. He wonders why he hasn't.

XIII.

The door is open when they get there.

J.

Maybe there's a reason he's still alive. Or maybe there isn't. Maybe he's lucky, whereas the others were not. Maybe he should abandon Exodus. But he can't flee now, not when this is all he's known. How is he to go to some office and sit at a desk, when the thrill of the hunt or the chase is all he's ever known? How is he to leave this life behind, when it haunts at the corners of his mind and leaves him gasping for more?

XIV.

Yixing's stomach floods with dread and fear, even though he knows what he'll see when he steps inside. There's a horrible choking sound coming from the kitchen, but it's Junmyeon that Yixing sees first. His body is twisted, contorted in an unusual shape.

“No no no,” Yixing cries, rushing to his body. “Junmyeon?” He rips off his glove and places his hand on him. His skin is cold. Nothing like how he is supposed to feel. _Xiumin is cold, _Yixing thinks,_ yet he is alive_. He pushes him out of his mind. _Why is he thinking of him now?_

He tries to connect to Junmyeon's energy but he feels nothing. Despite the fact that he _knows_ there is nothing he can do, he keeps pushing. It's hopeless, but the task makes it him feel some inkling of hope that he knows isn't there. His touch may heal all wounds, but even death is beyond him.  
"Yixing!” Jongin calls, but his cries fall on deaf ears. “Yifan’s alive! Come quick!” When Yixing doesn't respond, Jongin moves to grab him.

Yixing wails. “No, stop!” He places his hand on Jongin, intending to shove him away.

A great cracking sound resounds through the apartment.

K.

A few weeks before the mission, Jongdae had shown him something.

"I have something to tell you," Jongdae had said. "You can't tell anyone." Minseok stared at him, wondering what could be so deadly serious. And then Jongdae's fingers crackled, flickers of electricity arcing between them. One branched off and zapped Minseok, sending the slightest shock down his skin. It should've stung, but instead it felt warm.

Minseok raised an eyebrow. "You're like me," he said.

Jongdae paled. "What?" He said, and so Minseok showed him. He curved his fingers and willed forth the everlasting cold that seemed to perpetuate him.

Jongdae had laughed, light and happy.

XV.

The apartment is quiet. Jongin is still. Even the choking sounds have stopped. Junmyeon is dead. Yixing rises. He cannot bear to look at Jongin. He knows what he would see. He moves towards the kitchen, where there is an oozing pool of blood spreading out into the dining room floor. It is bright, so bright it could be paint. It smells of copper. The whole apartment reeks of copper and death.

It’s Yifan. Yixing is not surprised. There are deep gashes on his neck, where blood still flows from even still. His head is craned to face Yixing. His eyes bear into Yixing’s, as if he knows. _This is all your fault_, they seem to say.

On the coffee table, is a card. The ace of spades, perfectly crisp and white. Not a speck of blood on it.

L.

Minseok wonders if PCY knows. Two people like that, can be shrugged off as a coincidence, but _three_. Luhan never told him, but everyone is entitled to keep their secrets, Minseok supposes.

XVI.

"I'm sorry," Yixing says. "I should've been more careful."

"It's fine," Jongin wheezes, clutching his arm. "You can fix it though, right?"

Yixing nods.

XVII.

They go back to Xiumin's. There is nowhere else to go. Yixing can only pray that he takes pity on them and helps them. Yixing wonders at this point, if Kyungsoo is even alive. If they are searching for a person at this point, or a body.

M.

In the end, they come to him.

XVIII.

Xiumin opens the door. "Please," Yixing says.

N.

"Junmyeon is dead," Yixing says. His eyes are red. Jongin is sleeping in Minseok's room. Minseok had brought out a bottle of wine for Yixing. He looked like he could use it.

"I'm sorry," Minseok says. People are always apologizing for things they cannot control. But it is the right thing to say, Minseok supposes.

"You might've known him as Suho," Yixing says. "He was a nurse at the clinic I used to work at." Minseok is silent, and thinks of Jongdae. Thinks of the way Jongdae smiled, the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners. Thinks, maybe, _maybe—_

"He was a good person," Yixing rasps. "Maybe one of the last." The good ones always die, Minseok muses. It is the older, the cynics who outlive. The optimists never make it. Minseok thinks of Jongin in the next room over, and wonders what will become of him. Whether he will outgrow his foolish optimism, or if it will kill him.

XIX.

In turn, Xiumin tells him of Chen.

"His real name was Jongdae," Xiumin says. He pauses. "He loved me."

O.

"Did you love him?"

Minseok shakes his head. "No, not the way he loved me." _But I could've_, is what Minseok doesn't say. Yixing is silent. He reaches out a hand to Minseok. Minseok eases his hand into Yixing’s. They slot together perfectly and their fingers interlace. Minseok thinks of what Jongdae's hand could've felt like. He's glad he doesn't know.

XX.

Yixing squeezes his hand and rubs circles onto the back of his palm, as if his pain was the type that he could ease.

P.

Minseok cries.

XXI.

There is a garnered trust between them now. Tentative and uneasy, like too thin ice over a deep ocean, where one wrong step might plunge you into the icy depths forever.

Q.

Minseok tells them what the "big men" told him. That D.O., or Kyungsoo, was being held in a warehouse in the south section of the city. The warehouse wasn't heavily guarded, but still held a number of guards inside it. It would be no easy feat to break in and retrieve him. If Minseok didn't know how low they were on men, Minseok would think that PCY was trying to kill him off.

Jongin smiles. "We found him." Minseok almost laughs at his optimism. But Yixing doesn't voice his doubts about the chances of success of this mission, so neither does Minseok.

XXII.

Xiumin had wanted Yixing to stay behind, but he protested that he can look after himself. Not that Xiumin knows, but there is harm beneath his skin as well as help.

"It'll be dangerous," Xiumin had said.

Yixing cocked his head. "I know," he said. "I'm no—"  
"Are you sure you want to come?" Xiumin shifted. "I cannot guarantee that—"

Yixing laughed. "Are you worried about _my_ safety?" Xiumin glanced away from Yixing's gaze. _Cute_, he thought. Yixing could detect the faintest dusting of red over Xiumin's cheeks. "Look, I appreciate it but I'm not helpless." _I could probably kill you with my bare hands_, he thought.

"Alright," Xiumin said. He still looked vaguely unhappy, but the crease between his brows was smooth now. Yixing was pleasantly surprised. Underneath all that ice and pretense, he did have a heart of gold.

R.

Unsurprisingly, the mission fails. The warehouse was large. They had no guidance as to where Kyungsoo might be located inside, _if_ he was even located inside, and they were outnumbered. They are on the roof, and running out of time. Minseok is injured, badly so. He has an inkling of a plan, but they can't be here.

XXIII.

In the end, they didn’t even find Kyungsoo. Jongin was shaking as Yixing ushered him up, up the stairs and out onto the rooftop. His other arm is wrapped around Xiumin, who’s shaking twice as hard as Jongin, but not from fear.

Blood loss is a dangerous thing. Blood is the connector between all the systems in the body. It’s essential, vital for life. Right now, Yixing is seeing too much. Too much blood, too much of _Xiumin’s _blood. It stains his trembling hands red, even as the rain washes it away.

The bleeding is worse than he would’ve estimated for a stomach wound. _His kidney must’ve been hit_, he realizes. Xiumin has less time than he thought.

S.

"Leave me," Minseok says. He remembers Jongdae, and the desperation in his eyes as he uttered his last words. "Yixing." He says. He wonders if he has that same desperation in his eyes.  
"No. Minseok—" Yixing swallows. "I can fix this. I can fix this." He rolls up his sleeves, determination shining.

"No," Minseok says. He grabs Yixing's arm, stopping him from touching him. "Don't." Yixing stops.

Minseok coughs. His mouth tastes of copper. He absentmindedly wonders if that's what Jongdae tasted as he died too. "It's too late for me. Save yourself while you can."

"I—" Yixing is cut off by the sound of men shouting. Minseok can hear them coming up the stairs.

"Go," Minseok says. "Go now. While you still have time."

XXIV.

Junmyeon had always told Yixing his apartment was open to him if he needed something. Yixing took up his offer one day and invited himself over for dinner.

"Junmyeon!" Yixing called. "It's just me. I hope I'm not intruding."

"Yixing," Junmyeon said, smiling. "Of course not. Dinner's almost ready." He waved him over to sit. "Please, sit." Yixing obliged, even the hard wood chair feeling good against his tired muscles. Junmyeon waved a hand and a stream of water filled Yixing's cup.

"Y-you—" Yixing sputtered. Junmyeon just laughed, as calm as the water he was holding. His eyes twinkled, and somehow, just somehow Yixing knew that he knew.

"I didn't know there were others," Yixing admitted.

Junmyeon had smiled. "There are always others," he said.

T.

Jongin grabs Yixing. "We have to go," Jongin says.

"No," Yixing says. "I—"

There's a popping sound.

XXV.

The rooftop is empty.

U.

Minseok watches them disappear from the rooftop. He's not totally surprised. He suspects Yixing is like them too. He wonders what he can do. He wonders if he'll ever get to find out. The pounding on the rooftop door grows louder, and Minseok prays to whatever god is up there. He exhales, white and puffy, feels the cold around him, and _pulls_.

XXVI.

Yixing is standing outside of Xiumin's apartment. It was a cruel reminder of what he lost to be there. He's about to turn to Jongin and demand he take him back to the rooftop when something cold and wet lands on the back of his neck. He reaches back and wipes it off. Yixing looks up to see soft white flurries spiraling down towards him. A couple land on his face and eyelashes, clouding his vision with white.

It's snowing.

XXVII.

They're sitting inside Xiumin's apartment. Jongin teleported them inside upon realizing that neither of them had the key. Jongin looks shell-shocked, but Yixing can't muster up the strength to whisper comforting words he knows to be false. Yixing should've known better. He got _attached_.

An idea strikes him. He stands, and moves towards Xiumin's room. Jongin, ever curious, gets up and follows him. Yixing yanks open the nightstand drawer.

Jongin watches him. "What are you doing?" He asks, alarmed. "Isn't that—"

"Xiumin's dead," Yixing says. _I couldn't save him._ "Dead people don't have property."

XXVIII.

Xiumin's room is sparse. His nightstand is devoid of any framed pictures or knickknacks that might show there were a person living here. It speaks of someone who doesn't know where he belongs.

XXIX.

Yixing finds a photo in Xiumin's nightstand drawer. It's old and weathered, the corners gone soft and yellow with age. Clearly a beloved photo. The years is written on the bottom in neat handwriting. Depicted are a group of five boys, one holding a soccer ball. One is clearly Xiumin, with white hair and wide smile. Yixing smiles, it's cute. A reminder of the past, perhaps, a time where everything was simpler. He flips over the photo. On the back, in the same handwriting is written, _It's not your fault, Minseok_.

XXXX.

His drawer also has a piece of paper, folded in 4. On it is written a phone number, an address, and the word "PCY." Xiumin was high ranking, Yixing knew this.

_No,_ Yixing thinks. _It couldn't be that easy._

I.

It was that easy. The building is mostly empty, surprising for what looks to be a big corporate office on the outside. The interior is all shades of whites and greys and modern furniture. It's designed well, but does nothing to hide its emptiness.

The front desk is manned by a man with red streaks in his hair. He's wearing a huge fluffy coat and is holding a lollipop, which he twirls as he watches Yixing approach.

He takes his feet off the front desk and leans forward. "What do you want," he says.

"I'm looking for PCY," Yixing says. He holds up the slip of paper.

The man stares at him, unreadable. "I don't know you."

"No," Yixing says. "You don't. I got this from Xiumin."

The man raises an eyebrow. "Xiumin's dead?" Yixing wonders why this is his first assumption.

Yixing thinks back to the rooftop, and how it's _his_ fault, he dragged him into finding Kyungsoo. He thinks about how much blood there was, and the likelihood of him surviving more than half an hour without medical aid. He thinks of the photo in Xiumin's nightstand drawer, and wonders what happened to the boy in the photo. "Yes," Yixing says, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "Xiumin's dead."

II.

The man, Bee, he introduced himself as, takes him up to the top floor of the building. He says nothing as they wait for the elevator to rise the 60 floors. The elevator is complete glass, an obnoxious display of wealth. Yixing watches the as they rise above the majority of the buildings. Yixing can see the rooftops now, can watch as the "ordinary folk" mill about their lives. Drinking beer on rooftops, with their friends, around a fire. Sharing stories, ghost stories perhaps, laughing. It all seems so distant, down there. Like a life that Yixing will never live again.

III.

The tall tales of the "big men" don't live up to reality, Yixing finds. Hardly anything does. The "big men," in reality is just one man. One man and his lover.

"You're the 'big men?'" Yixing says. In the corner, Bee scowls. He sticks out his tongue. It's a bright shade of blue from the lollipop.

'PCY' glares at Bee. "Behave, Bee," he says. "There's only one of us now," he says, turning back to Yixing. Yixing can see Bee swirling the lollipop with his tongue. In another time maybe Yixing would've found it attractive, but his mind is fulfilled with other thoughts. Thoughts of— _No. Don't think about—_

Chanyeol's glance flicks towards Bee. His eyes linger on his lips, and Yixing understands.

"Mr. PCY—"

'PCY' waves a hand. "Chanyeol please," he says.

"Chanyeol," Yixing amends. "One of your runners. D.O., I believe is being held captive in a warehouse down south."

Chanyeol snorts. "Exodus is dying. I have no power anymore." He stands. "There's nothing I can do now," Chanyeol says. He pours himself a glass of whiskey. Its color is bright, against the grey of the city and the grey of the walls.

"There's always something you can do," Yixing says.

IV.

"You should leave China," Yixing advises.

Bee's mouth curls downwards. "Why? Think I can't—"

"No," Yixing says. "It's not a matter of capability. It's a matter of survival."

"Why should we give up now when we've already lost everything?" Bee smiles. It reminds Yixing of something dangerous. There's something feral lurking beneath the surface, barely contained by a pretty face and fancy clothes.

V.

Yixing returns to Xiumin's apartment, at a loss how to proceed. Jongin is still waiting there. While Yixing was gone, he must've bought food, as when Yixing opens the fridge there are now eggs and a few vegetables in there.

"What now?" Yixing says, sitting down with a bottle of beer.

"I have a plan," Jongin says.

VI.

"Kyungsoo," Jongin sobs, and rushes to embrace him. Kyungsoo tenses, but then relaxes. He murmurs into Jongin's ear, too low for Yixing to hear.

"How did you—"

"Yixing," Jongin says. "He helped me." Yixing smiles awkwardly and waves.

"We probably should—" He's cut off by a wailing siren.

Jongin grins. "That's our cue," he says, and holds out his hand for Yixing to take. Yixing moves to grab it when he remembers.

"Wait." Yixing dashes down the corridor. Someone down the hallway shouts furiously, but Yixing ignores them and keeps running. It's just a hunch based on what they saw on the security cams, but a hunch is all Yixing needs. He comes skidding to a stop before a large, heavily locked metal door. _Damn._

"Move," says someone behind him. Yixing steps out of the way for Kyungsoo to barrel forward and bust the door clean off the hinges.

VII.

Inside, the temperature is noticeably lower than the hallway. There's only one thing in the room. It's a large, perfectly cut block of ice propped on a metal stand. Yixing runs a hand over the edges of the block. It's sharp. Almost sharp enough to cut, and as straight as if it had been cut with a laser.

Yixing's hand trembles as he reaches out to touch the ice. Even though he already knows who he’ll see. Maybe all along, he knew all this time. But seeing and knowing are different creatures.

He wipes the cloudy layer of frost off. The ice is smooth. Too perfect, and cold. Underneath the frost is layers upon layers of crystal-clear ice, impossibly flawless and without a hint of air bubbles inside. Yixing's breath hitches.

_It’s him._

VIII.

Unfortunately this moment will have to wait. More Black Aces and thundering right down the corridor and _oh god how are they going to get Xiumin out_. Yixing turns to face Kyungsoo and Jongin.

"Please—" Yixing doesn't need to say more. Kyungsoo heaves Xiumin off the metal pedestal it was on and places him on the floor. One arm is wrapped loosely around the ice, and the other is extended to Jongin.

"Let's go," Kyungsoo says. Jongin takes his hand, and Yixing takes Jongin's other hand, but nothing happens. Kyungsoo glances towards the door. "Jongin--"  
Jongin gasps, as if he came up from drowning. "I _can't_." He lets go of their hands. "The block. It's too much. I've never—" Yixing bites his lip. _No_.

"Yes, you can," Yixing says desperately. He didn’t come this far just to lose Xiumin again. No, Yixing couldn’t give up now. And he wouldn’t allow Jongin to either. "You're strong, Jongin. Just, focus. Breathe." Yixing rubs Jongin's back.

Jongin inhales. "Alright," he says. "Let's do it one at a time."

IX.

Kyungsoo disappears first. Then Yixing. Then the two of them are waiting in Xiumin's living room, waiting for Jongin, waiting for _Xiumin_. A while passes. Neither dare to pull out their phone and glance at the time. Maybe, just maybe it's the adrenaline that's making it take longer than it really is, right? Kyungsoo clenches his fist.

A moment passes. Xiumin appears in the apartment. Jongin doesn't.

X.

"I'm sorry," Yixing says.

"It's okay," Kyungsoo says softly. There's not a hint of anger in his voice, or blame even. Just dull acceptance and melancholy. Yixing wishes he were angry. He wishes that Kyungsoo would scream at him, cry _why did you have to go back_. It would be easier. Because then Yixing would have to face the fact that he essentially sacrificed Jongin for Xiumin. A man who he doesn't even know the real name of. Maybe then, if Kyungsoo blamed him, Yixing would feel bad.

XI.

But Kyungsoo doesn't, and so Yixing doesn't. He just feels some sort of sick relief, staring down at Xiumin's frozen body, some kind of strange _feeling_ stirring in the pits of his stomach. Something that wants to reach out and caress Xiumin's cheek, or brush his white hair aside. Something that dared him to run back when they were almost to safety. Something that would kill for him.

XII.

He looks peaceful, as if he were sleeping. Xiumin looks years younger here, underneath the ice. Untouchable, and distant, but somehow more innocent, and happier almost. Yixing wonders if he's still alive in there, or if the Black Aces froze his corpse.

XIII.

The room is warm, but the ice doesn’t melt. They've been blasting the heat all day, and both Yixing and Kyungsoo are sweating buckets but the ice doesn't show any sign of meltage. Not even a drop of water rolls off it.

XIV.

"Maybe you should try to get him to melt the ice," Kyungsoo suggests.

"What?" Yixing looks up from the newspaper. "Why—"  
"You know him, right?" Yixing glances at the block of ice, at _Xiumin_, and thinks. "Not really." It's not a lie. Despite the amount of time that their paths have crossed, Yixing cannot name even more than five facts about the man. He doesn't even know his real name. _Ok well—_ Yixing shushes his inner voice and ignores the niggling feeling in the back of his head.

XV.

Yixing is sitting beside Xiumin, who is laid out on the coffee table. It reminds Yixing of all those cheesy romance movies, where the loved one is in a coma and their partner is sitting by their bedside, holding their hand and speaking to them in hopes of waking them up. Except Xiumin and Yixing aren't lovers, and Yixing can't hold Xiumin's hand, as it's currently buried in about a foot of ice.

Yixing is at a loss for what to say. Could Xiumin even hear him? Maybe he's not totally aware of his surroundings. Maybe he still thinks he's captured by the Black Aces.

"It’s okay, Xiumin," Yixing says. He places a hand on the ice. It's burning cold, and it reminds him of the feeling of Xiumin's skin.

XVI.

It's strange, being around Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, or D.O. as he went by in Exodus, who he heard so much about through Jongin's eyes. He is simultaneously a man he knows everything about and yet nothing. Kyungsoo is quiet, and mostly leaves Yixing to his own devices. It's... nice, Yixing supposes. But with Xiumin quite literally unreachable, it would be nice to talk to someone. Yixing wonders what Kyungsoo makes of him. He probably wishes it were Jongin here with him, rather than Yixing.

XVII.

It's around 12 AM when Yixing is woken up by a thumping noise. He let Kyungsoo sleep in Xiumin's bed (he'll apologize later) and took the couch. At first, Yixing thought he was dreaming. But when the thumping continues, he fumbles around for the lamp. It's too dark to make out anything besides vague shapes, but even in the dark Yixing can tell that the block in front of him is gone. Childish glee sets in as he finally switches on the light.

"Xiumin?" Yixing says before he's even registered the scene before him.

Xiumin is lying on his back, having rolled off the coffee table. A large puddle of water surrounds him, soaking the table and the clothes Xiumin is wearing, alongside a growing dark red patch on his abdomen.

"Lay," Xiumin croaks, and Yixing has never been gladder to hear his name.

XVIII.

Xiumin's wound was easy to heal. Yixing wished he had insisted on staying on the rooftop with him, maybe then Jongin would still be here. _Enough of the past_, he chides himself. There's nothing he can do now about it. Besides, it all worked out okay. He's here, with Xiumin, who is currently sleeping on the couch.

XIX.

The three of them eat breakfast together the next morning. It’s, awkward to say the least.

“You must be Kyungsoo,” Xiumin greets. Kyungsoo stiffens at the mention of his name.

“Yes,” he answers carefully. Xiumin eyes Kyungsoo for a moment, before moving on. His eyes flick over the entirety of the apartment. Yixing and Kyungsoo just watch him, like an owner might watch a startled cat.

“Where’s, Jongin?” he asks finally.

“Dead,” Kyungsoo answers. “Or,” he pauses. “I assume so,” he says, softer, more tender. Yixing can tell the loss of Jongin is still an open wound for him. The way he speaks is raw, and full of emotion broiling right below the surface. Out of sight enough that one might not see it at a quick glimpse, but not totally hidden. It’s too bad Yixing cannot heal mental wounds.

“You don’t know?” Xiumin says, startling Yixing out of his thoughts.

Kyungsoo swallows. “I don’t. He disappeared in the jump between here and the warehouse.” Xiumin nods, taking it in. Yixing wonders if Jongin is truly dead, or if he is stuck between the two. It’s possible he is in some sort of limbo, as a result of not having enough energy to transport himself fully between the places. Yixing hopes that is not the case. Waiting an eternity until you either died from starvation or thirst seemed worse than simply being wiped out of existence.

XXX.

That night, the topic of sleeping arrangement comes up again. It’s a small apartment after all, for three people and Xiumin does not have a spare mattress tucked away. Yixing has a brief recollection of having the same conversation, but with Jongin instead of Kyungsoo. And now Jongin is gone, with Kyungsoo here in his place.

“I’ll take the couch,” Kyungsoo volunteers, staring pointedly at Xiumin’s bandaged torso. Xiumin nods in acknowledgement, turning to face Yixing. “Yixing can—"

“It’s ok,” Xiumin interrupts sharply. “We’ve done it before.” Xiumin shoots him a sly smile. Kyungsoo looks between the two of them, half confused, before the corner of his lips twitch into an almost smile.

“I see,” Kyungsoo says, before turning to leave. Yixing almost calls out to him to protest, to say _No it’s not like that, you don’t understand_—but could he? Could he say that, without it being a lie?

a.

“Yixing,” Minseok says. It’s what Kyungsoo had called him, him being _Lay_, the doctor, the man with the burning hands. Minseok has many names for him. Yixing is not one of them. “Is that—is that your name?” Minseok stumbles over the words. It’s been so long. So long since...

Since Jongdae. Since Luhan. Since he’s asked anybody of his own volition for their name. Their true name. Not their mask, their cover, the one they go by so that they aren't hunted down like mice by the enemy.

Yixing stills. “It is,” he answers. “I’m sorry, I forgot to—”

“It’s okay,” Minseok hurries. Minseok has never been one to apologize, or rush to give reassurances when he thought they were unprompted for. And yet he did just now, because he thought it would make Yixing feel better. How odd. It’s strange. The doctor, _Yixing_, makes him act _strange_. Makes him act in ways he never thought he ever would again. In a way, Minseok feels like a child again. Stumbling about a world yet unknown to him with little control over himself.

Beside him, Yixing crawls into bed and turns off the lamp. “Goodnight,” Yixing whispers.

“Goodnight,” Minseok says back. He’s not rude.

That night, Minseok dreamt of what it’d be like to live a domestic life. He dreamt of waking up in the morning, and Yixing has cooked breakfast. Dream Minseok went over to Yixing and wrapped his arms around his back.

“Good morning sleepy,” Yixing had said. Minseok had mumbled something unintelligible back. He’d never been a morning person. "Coffee?" Yixing had asked. Minseok had nodded, still draped over his back.

Yixing had _laughed_, happy sounding. Minseok could feel the laughter through Yixing's back, the vibrations rumbling. Yixing passed Minseok a cup of steaming coffee, perfectly the way Minseok likes it.

Minseok had leant over to press a kiss to Yixing's cheek. It's a disgustingly domestic and romantic scene laid out before him, and yet—_yet_... Minseok wants it. He wants this life. He wants to cook and clean and do all these mundane things. With Yixing. For the first time, he understands Jongdae. Understands why he so desperately wanted to leave. Minseok wants _out_ of this life, for once.

I.

When Yixing wakes up, Xiumin is already gone. He sits up and rubs at his eyes. The morning light is streaming in from the window, pooling onto the floor. Yixing turns to face the window. The view isn't bad. It's half blocked by a very tall brick red building. The other half over looks shorter buildings. Yixing can spot one building with a red umbrella and two folding chairs. All the buildings are quite close to each other. Yixing wonders what it would be like to run from roof to roof, flying through the night. And in the very distance, the peaks of green trees are visible, like a promise of something new and better.

b.

Minseok wakes up before Yixing. He moves carefully, as not to wake him. Yixing looks peaceful while sleeping. Minseok yearns to lean over him and smooth the creases on his face, and press a kiss to the crown of his head. But he resists the urge.

Instead, he pads into the kitchen and starts cooking.

Minseok's never been a huge cooker for people, always preferring to go out with people. Never wanting to make the effort. Cooking, to Minseok, was intimate. It was an extension of one's own heart. To cook for somebody, was to offer them something. Minseok hasn't offered anything to anybody in a very, very, long time. But he's willing to try again. For Yixing.

He decides to make pancakes. Everybody likes pancakes.

II.

Yixing can hear the sound of cooking in the kitchen. He's slightly befuddled. Xiumin doesn't seem like the type to cook for his guests, or to let his guests use the kitchen themselves.

Kyungsoo is already dressed and sitting at the dining table with a newspaper. "Morning," he greets politely, not looking up from the paper.

"Morning," Yixing mumbles.

Xiumin is in the kitchen. He appears to be making of _pancakes_, of all things. It's all very... domestic. Normal. Yixing's pleasantly surprised.

"Morning," Yixing says.

Xiumin looks up from the pan, wide-eyed. "Hi," he says softly. It's the most tenderness Yixing's ever heard in his voice. "Yixing," Xiumin says.

"Yes?" Yixing says, tilting his head. But Xiumin doesn't say anything more. Instead, he just smiles and shakes his head.

"Nothing," Xiumin says. "I just like saying your name."

Yixing's not sure what to make of that.

c.

Minseok knows his pancakes are good. He's never made them for other people, but he has taste buds too.  
He places the steaming platter down on the table. Kyungsoo folds the paper and places it on the chair beside him. "Looks good," Kyungsoo comments. Minseok nods as a thanks.

Yixing rubs his hands excitedly. _Cute_, Minseok thinks. Minseok doesn't normally like cute things. But he likes Yixing, and Yixing is cute.

"It smells so good," Yixing says, already reaching for some. "I didn't know you could cook."

"I don't usually cook for people," Minseok replies. He chews slowly. _But I did for you_, goes unsaid.

III.

Yixing hums while they eat in silence. A short tune. One his mother used to sing to him before bed. It reminds him of happier times. It reminds him of the _before_ of all this, the same way the present reminds him of the past.

Yixing could live in this moment forever, with Xiumin and Kyungsoo. Eating pancakes, and the morning news.

d.

Yixing liked the pancakes, Minseok thinks. He ate a decent portion, and was even happy enough afterwards that he approached Minseok to ask for the recipe.

A recipe, means Yixing could go off and make them himself. He wouldn't need Minseok. Minseok doesn't want that.

Minseok doesn't give it to him. Yixing is confused, but doesn't ask again.

IV.

Yixing should've known that the peace would never last. Not for them. Sooner or later, reality always comes knocking on the door.

Exodus falls. Chanyeol is found dead in his penthouse apartment. A single gunshot wound to the head. The police rule it a suicide but Yixing knows better. It makes all the front pages. He wonders what happened to Bee, and if the man left China yet, or if he's still here, lurking, waiting for revenge.

e.

The Black Aces rule. They cry, _the king is dead the king is dead! Long live the queen_, they say. They plaster newspapers with Chanyeol’s face scribbled out and lewd comments written all over. Minseok doesn’t feel a thing for it. He never met Chanyeol in person. He knew nothing about the man, besides the fact that he was also Korean and was a bit of a chatterbox.

V.

The next day, Kyungsoo is gone.

Yixing returns from grocery shopping to find the apartment quieter, and lacking one more presence. Xiumin is still there, sitting at the table scrolling on his phone.

But Kyungsoo isn't here anymore. Yixing frowns. "Where's Kyungsoo?" he asks. He could just be out getting groceries, but something in Yixing's gut tells him that isn't the case.

“Kyungsoo is dead,” Xiumin answers easily, as if he were reading the morning news.

“What?” Yixing chokes. “Dead?” Xiumin eyes him as if he were stupid for not getting it the first time.

“Yes,” Xiumin says, folding the newspaper he was reading and placing it on the table. “I found his body outside the building. He must’ve jumped off the roof.”

_Suicide._ Yixing sighs. Perhaps it was the loss, the loss of everything. Of everyone. The loss of Jongin. The loss of stability from Exodus. Whatever happened after death, Yixing hoped that he found peace.

He hopes he found Jongin, and that they were somewhere happy together.

f.

Kyungsoo had asked him to, technically. It wasn't Minseok's fault. And Yixing would never know. Nobody would. It's something Minseok will have to live with, and that's okay.

"Is Yixing yours?" Kyungsoo had asked, when Yixing was out getting more eggs or something. Minseok hadn't really paid attention.

"Mine?" Minseok repeats. He's perfectly aware of what Kyungsoo is asking. He's just surprised. And he thought _he_ was cold, but Kyungsoo? Jongin has just died essentially, and he's already moved on.

"Yes," Kyungsoo says. "Yours." Minseok thinks. _Is he mine?_ he wonders. No, is the answer. Yixing is not his. But Minseok wants him to be. It's why he allows him in his bed, why he cooks for him. It's why he didn't give him the recipe.

"Let me show you something," Minseok had said instead. "Come with me." Kyungsoo is more naive than Minseok had thought he was, because he readily agrees.

They go up onto the roof.

VI.

Yixing stays with Xiumin, even after. He's not sure why. There's no reason to. Maybe it's because everyone else he's known is dead, and he has nowhere else to go. Maybe it's something else.

(It's always something else. Lurking quietly beneath the surface, tension just enough that it doesn't break out, but still there. Always there.)

g.

Minseok doesn't feel an ounce of regret. Kyungsoo was not tied to anybody. Not besides Jongin, and Jongin is gone already.

VII.

"Minseok," Xiumin says one day. It’s so quiet, Yixing would’ve missed it had he not been paying attention. Unfortunately, these days Xiumin, or _Minseok_, always seemed to be on his mind. Yixing often caught himself watching Xiumin. Watching Xiumin move around the apartment, mill around, do chores, or most often, clean. He’d watch the way his hands would deftly change between tools, admire the great strength yet delicateness behind his fingers. There was, something, dare he say _beautiful_ about Minseok. Something graceful. Like a cat. Deadly, but soft.

Yixing freezes. "What?" he says, even though he already knows.

"My name," Minseok says. "Minseok."

_Minseok_, Yixing breathes. He likes it.

h.

Minseok finds these days frustrating. It's like they are dancing around the empty space in the apartment. Yixing is cautious, more so now that Kyungsoo is gone. It's not the effect Minseok thought would happen.

They're both lost. But neither of them know what to do to fill the silence or the time. They were both soldiers, too used to the war to know what to do without it.

V

"We are the last," Yixing says emptily. He thinks of Jongin, of Kyungsoo, even of Chanyeol and Baekhyun who he met only briefly.

Minseok looks at him. He hums. “I suppose so.” He says softly. “Is that such a bad thing?” Yixing is quiet. “If we are the last,” Minseok says slowly. “Then we are free.”

_And what of the others who died before they got a chance to taste it?_ Yixing thinks._ What of your friends, the people you loved?_ He wants to ask, but he refrains. Beside him, Minseok continues humming.

i.

"Why do you avoid me?" Minseok demands.

"What?" Yixing blinks at him, taken aback. Minseok doesn't want to hurt him, but this is not what he wanted.

"You're avoiding me," Minseok says, blunt as ever. "You don't talk to me the same way. You're cold." _Like me_, Minseok thinks. But that's not why he wanted Yixing. Yixing made him warm.

Yixing stares back at him, dark eyes and soft lines. "I just... I don't know—"

"Is it because of Kyungsoo?" Minseok asks.

"No," Yixing answers resolutely, and Minseok finds himself breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm just not..." Yixing trails off, words turning into indiscernible mumbling. Minseok waits for him to repeat it. "I'm not that good at love," Yixing whispers.

_Love_, Minseok thinks. Now that's word Minseok hasn't heard in a long time.

When Minseok looks up, it's to the quiet click of his apartment door closing.

VI.

Yixing leaves Minseok's apartment. _Love_, Yixing thinks. What a fool he is. Can he even call it that? He barely knows the man, and yet he's saying foolish things like _love_ to him. Is that what it is? No, it can't be. Yixing shakes himself.

Minseok had said he was free. So he is. Yixing is going to find a new apartment, and get a job at a hospital. He's going to live a normal life away from Minseok.

There's no reason for him to see Minseok anymore. Yixing's not part of that life anymore, and neither is Minseok. Exodus is gone.

j.

Minseok's not a runner for nothing. Yixing thinks he can run. Minseok will give him time. He understands confessions can be shocking. Minseok was shocked himself. But he supposes it's the same thing as love, just by different words. _Warm_, Minseok calls it. Yixing makes him feel warm inside again.

Minseok misses that.

VII.

Yixing does get that hospital job. It has long hours. Yixing sort of finds it boring. The stories inside are never interesting, just sad. But it pays well, and for Yixing's new apartment which is almost on the other side of the city from Minseok's.

k.

Yixing takes a hospital job. Minseok wonders if he should get a job too. PCY paid for his apartment previously, but now that he's dead he wonders what will happen.

So, Minseok also takes a job. A desk job, nothing too hard.

VIII.

Yixing's walking back to his apartment from work when—

"Yixing," somebody calls. It's not a voice Yixing recognizes.

Yixing whirls around. There's a tall man standing in the alleyway. He beckons Yixing over to him. Yixing, foolishly, obliges.

"You're a healer," the man says.

"A doctor, yes," Yixing corrects, ignoring the way his heart rate spikes.

"Come with me," the man says. "Irene wants to meet you."

"Irene?" Yixing asks, brow furrowed. The situation irks his brain. _Get out,_ his mind screams. And then the man flashes him a card underneath his jacket. An ace of spades.

l.

It's raining slightly. A light spritzing of water, only enough to jewel droplets of water on the surface of everything.

IX.

"I don't do that anymore," Yixing answers calmly. "I'm sorry," he says, and tries to step around the man.

"It's not a request," the man says. Something wet lands on the back of Yixing's neck. He jumps.

"I'm not asking," Yixing fires back. He tightens his grip around his briefcase. The man raises an eyebrow, amused. He reaches into his jacket, and Yixing readies himself to _pull_ when—

Something sharp pokes out of his chest. The man gurgles once, bright blood bubbling up past his lips before dropping to the ground. Limp.

m.

"I didn't need your help," Yixing spits.

"I know," Minseok says. It starts to rain harder. Minseok is not wearing a rain coat. Neither is Yixing.

Minseok doesn't move, despite the water dripping down his back and seeping into his shoes. Yixing," he calls.

X.

Minseok calls his name. All Yixing has to do is answer. Say Minseok's name. That could be it. But Yixing shakes his head. "I need to go," he says.

"You can't leave me," Minseok says, stepping forward. Yixing almost takes a step back, but something stops him. Minseok stands his ground, as fierce and unrelenting as always.

"You said we were free," Yixing bites. The use of 'we' does not go unnoticed by Minseok.

"You can never truly leave, Yixing," Minseok says instead.

The rain pours on, soaking both of them. Water streams down Minseok's face. It looks like tears. Despite the image, his face is hard, and betrays nothing. _You make me warm_, Minseok had said.

Minseok had cooked for him that day. Pancakes. They were good. Yixing could have that Minseok, the one who lies in bed with him, the one who cooks him meals and cleans the house. But this Minseok is faceless, and Yixing doesn't know him. The Minseok Yixing wants is not always here.

"What happened with Kyungsoo?" Yixing asks instead.

"He died," Minseok states. It's a lie; Yixing knows. He's not blind.

"How?" Yixing pushes.

"You know," Minseok states, and Yixing does. It's enough. He yields.  
"I do," Yixing says.

"Come back," Minseok pleads. He extends an arm, reaching towards Yixing. Yixing suddenly becomes aware of how cold the air is. He shivers. It's a biting chill, impermeable. Minseok's face softens, and Yixing's heart _yearns._

"Please," Minseok asks.

Yixing takes Minseok's hand. It's warm.

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment if you enjoyed! or just keyboard smash at me, anything tbh ;-;
> 
> btw, here's everybody's roles/jobs:  
Runners, aka "mission men": Sehun, Luhan, Jongdae, Minseok, Yifan, Kyungsoo  
Doctors: Yixing, Suho  
Big men, aka the leaders: Chanyeol, Baekhyun 2nd hand,  
Runner in training (apprentice): Jongin (before he left), Kyungsoo (moved up to runner). Both Kyungsoo and Jongin were apprenticed under Yifan, and Sehun was too but he was graduating as soon as they joined
> 
> And yes, I know Zitao didn't appear in this. I have a sequel tentatively planned out and he needed to be in it. As in, like I couldn't kill him off in this one so I removed him.
> 
> come talk to me elsewhere!
> 
> twitter: @floweryongs  
curiouscat: @floweryong  
tumblr: @leetaeyong


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